


The Study

by domini_porter



Series: Scenes from Domestic Life [2]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 07:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domini_porter/pseuds/domini_porter





	The Study

"Maura?"

"Yes, Jane?"

"Have you seen this?"

Maura sighed, not looking up from her well-thumbed copy of  _Infectious Diseases, Vol. 28._  "What is it?"

"I think you should look."

"I think you should tell me."

There was a short pause, which Maura interpreted as pouting. "But really, babe-"

Still not looking, Maura sighed again and pointedly turned the page. "Is it something on you, or is it a thing you're looking at?"

"It's a thing I'm looking at."

"This is my house, Jane," she said evenly. "I'm sure I've seen it."

"If you'd seen it, why would I be trying to get you to look at it?" Jane huffed.

"Jane," Maura said again, not lifting her eyes from the page. "While I appreciate your attempts at logic-"

"Hey now," Jane huffed again. "What do you mean, "attempts at logic"? I'm a homicide detective, logic is my bread and butter."

"I always thought you said your gut was your bread and butter," Maura replied, turning another page.

"I always thought you hated it when I talk about my gut," Jane shot back.

"I do," Maura said, still feigning deep interest in  _Hypotheses and Results in Clinical Trials of Primary Pathogenic Host Response_ , even though she'd read it four times already.

There was a short pause. Maura could feel Jane buzzing with the need for attention, but allowed herself to peruse the cited sources with more leisure than usual.

"Maura."

"Yes, Jane?"

"I really need you to look at this thing." Jane's voice was deadly serious.

"Is it life-threatening?"

"Maybe."

"Does it involve  _Acanthocephala_?"

Another pause.

"Since I don't know what that is, I'm going to say no."

Maura smirked just slightly. "Well, this does," she said, holding her journal a little higher, still not looking up.

"Fine," Jane said. "Don't look. Forget I said anything."

"All right," Maura replied.

Moments inched by, and Maura was no longer registering the words on the page. Her curiosity piqued, she scanned the same paragraph three times. She heard Jane shift restlessly on the sofa across the room, patting the cushions and sighing repeatedly, each exhalation slightly more theatrical than the last.

"Maura," Jane said again, finally.

"What?" Maura finally snapped the journal shut and set it on the armrest, eyeing her with what she felt was a successful approximation of a frustration she had long learned to abandon, at least when it came to Jane.

"Oh good, you've decided to join me," Jane teased.

"What is this potentially life-threatening thing I'm supposed to be looking at?" Maura sighed, privately pleased that Jane, despite her many potentially irritating qualities, was sitting across from her in Maura's understated study. Maura was always privately pleased when Jane was in her house, even when it involved picking up dirty socks.

Jane blushed and glanced away. Maura raised her eyebrow, bit her lower lip. Jane saw her do it, and blushed more deeply.

"Is it embarrassing?"

"No."

"Then why are you blushing?"

Jane squirmed on the sofa, crossing her arms. "Well,  _now_  I'm kind of embarrassed."

"Jane," Maura said, allowing herself to get a little irritated. Jane shrugged.

"It's just you, is all," she mumbled.

Maura couldn't suppress her grin in time to keep pretending she was too busy to pay attention. "Oh, Jane," she said, before—

"-wait, you think I'm life-threatening?"

Jane rolled her eyes and tossed her head back, groaning. Maura bit her lip again at the sight.

"No. Well-"

"Well what?"

"Well, I've almost died on account of you more than once. Technically. But I mean it's cool, I'd—well, I mean . . ."

"What  _do_  you mean, Jane?" Maura could've been angry, could've been hurt, but Jane was fumbling with her words, which meant she didn't mean to say it that way. Maura was privately pleased she knew that much.

"I mean . . . uh . . ." Jane drifted off, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Jane."

"Yes, Maura?"

"Would it be easier for you to show me what it is you mean?" Maura knew Jane preferred action to words. It was one of Maura's favorite things about her.

Jane smiled widely, pushing herself off the couch and covering the distance between them with three long strides. She hesitated in front of Maura's armchair before dropping to her knees, which made Maura's heartbeat quicken and her knees weak; she was glad she was already sitting down. Maura's heart always beat faster when Jane was close to her; years of working in close proximity had made her accept it as normal.

Jane reached up and stroked the soft curve of Maura's cheek, her fingertips brushing softly down her jawline, her thumb drifting across Maura's lips.

"I'd die for you, you know," Jane said, and Maura could tell she was trying to be offhand.

"I know," Maura whispered, smiling gently. "I hope you never have to."

"Me either," Jane laughed. Maura was happy when she could make Jane laugh, even if she wasn't always sure what it was she'd done to make that happen, exactly.

Jane was sitting back on her knees at Maura's feet, her hands on Maura's legs, making tiny circles with her thumbs across Maura's bare skin. "So I was watching you read your magazine," she said, her voice clearer.

"Jane," Maura sighed, " _People_  is a magazine. This," she tapped the cover of  _Infectious Diseases, Vol. 28_ , "is a peer-reviewed journal of scientific research."

"It's got a paper cover and shiny pages," Jane sniffed, "it's a magazine." She slid one hand farther up Maura's thigh, her fingertips flirting with the hem of Maura's skirt. Maura let her eyes slide closed, no longer invested in the pretense of annoyance.

"It's a journal," she murmured.

"Anyway," Jane said in the tone that meant she was determined to be right, "I was watching you read your magazine-"

"Journal."

"—magazine, and I was thinking to myself 'gosh, she's pretty.'"

Maura smiled and relaxed back into her chair. She wanted to say something because it seemed right, to say  _thank you_  or  _you're so beautiful it breaks my heart_ , but she said nothing, let the way her hips shifted and her breath caught speak for her. She could tell Jane had understood when she felt the soft heat of Jane's lips pressed against the inside of her knee.

Maura sighed without meaning to, without caring. She loved more than anything the way Jane touched her, as though she were the most precious and delicate thing in the world. Jane's fingers playing at her hem, teasing over and under, running along the stitching. Jane's mouth alternating back and forth between Maura's knees, each kiss moving slightly higher, until Maura felt Jane's curls spilling down her calves. Maura murmuring wordlessly, faintly gripping the arms of her chair, parting her legs slightly to allow Jane's explorations more territory.

"I was thinking to myself," Jane mumbled against the smooth skin of Maura's inner thigh, "'gosh, she's pretty, and I wonder what she'd do if I just walked right over there and . . ."

Jane paused. Maura lifted one hand from the armrest, letting her eyes slide open, stealing a glance at the glossy black crown of Jane's head before settling her hand there, gently twining her fingers through the long strands of Jane's hair. Maura shivered when Jane exhaled, the soft puff of breath against her skin sending ripples of sensation through her whole body.

"And did what, Jane?" Maura whispered, her hand slipping down to Jane's neck, her fingers tracing the faint swells of Jane's spine. The slippery mass of Jane's hair pooled in Maura's lap as Jane carefully worked the hem of Maura's skirt higher. Maura shifted obligingly, quivering, gently pressing at the back of Jane's head, urging her on.

" . . . if I just walked right over there and got on my knees and told her so myself." Jane slid one hand under Maura's leg, deftly navigating her skirt, until she was pressing her hand to the small of Maura's back, the other sliding up and down the length of her thigh. Maura pushed her hips forward, pitching the rest of her body back, arching slightly against the chair. Her skirt was high on her hips, almost completely at her waist. Her hand clutching at Jane's head. Maura was not trying to restrain herself; the heat of Jane's mouth on her skin made her writhe and gasp like nothing else and she wanted this, more than anything.

Every time she wants this feeling more than she has ever wanted anything.

"Jane," she breathed, her other hand moving to Jane's head.

"Gosh," Jane whispered, her lips not leaving Maura's skin, "you're pretty."

Maura could feel the words ricochet through her whole body, vibrating from her fingertips to her toes, spinning back and pooling at her core. Jane's fingers were pressing into her skin, both of Jane's hands on her waist then the left sliding down, dragging across Maura's hip, Maura's own hands tangling themselves more and more tightly in Jane's hair, pulling Jane closer, wanting Jane to be—

And Maura was moaning and twisting in her chair, one leg wrapping itself around Jane's shoulders, even the subtle rhythmic shifting of Jane's shoulders making Maura shudder. Jane's tongue finding Maura's most sensitive places, making Maura cry out, making Maura clutch at Jane, push her as close as possible, Jane's hands holding her tightly, Maura can feel each of Jane's fingers pressing into her flesh, each individual one claiming her, and Jane's tongue inside of her—

Maura arched, her voice ragged as she cried out Jane's name. Jane not stopping, her mouth and hands making Maura gasp and whimper, making her thrust against Jane.

 _Infectious Diseases, Vol. 28_  fell to the floor with a dull thud. Neither of them heard it.

Maura collapsed back into her chair, her breathing shallow, uneven. Her hair had flown loose, coppery strands glimmering with sweat. Jane was leaving a trail of gentle kisses on her thighs, the firm pressure of her hands now a soft caress. Maura's hands slipped down to cup Jane's chin, inviting her up. Jane stood just long enough to reposition herself, one knee on either side of Maura's body, straddling her. Jane's hands drifted from the crown of Maura's head to her face, her throat, skimming over her breasts, her waist. Jane brought her hands back up to Maura's face, leaned down, kissed her in the way that obliterated even the way Jane had just made her body feel. Maura was unable to do anything but receive Jane's kiss, was too drained and too filled with feeling.

Every time she wants this feeling more than she has ever wanted anything. Jane's mouth on hers, Jane's hands cradling her head, holding on to her as though she were the only thing, the only thing—

And then Jane pulled away.

"Jane?" Maura managed to whisper.

Jane started to laugh. Maura was vaguely happy, though she didn't really know why.

"Uh, well, maybe you should look," Jane tried.

"Not again, Jane," Maura groaned. "This time, just tell me."

"I hope the turtle likes magazines," Jane snickered, gently turning Maura's chin to the right.

"He's a  _tortoise_ , Jane," Maura sighed as the tortoise slowly ripped another small piece of the cover off. "And it's a journal. Bass, stop it."

"You think the turtle is listening?"

"Obviously nobody in this house listens to me, not you  _or_  the tortoise."

"I'm listening," Jane said, suddenly quiet. Maura turned back to face her, Jane's eyes huge and dark, searching her own.

"I know," Maura said softly.

"What do you want?" Jane whispered.

"Just you," Maura sighed.

"What, not a pony?"

"I had a pony. Two, actually."

"Of course you did," Jane smiled. "But  _I_  am better than a hundred ponies."

"You're better than anything," Maura said softly. She leaned up, kissed Jane sweetly.

Jane smiled against her lips. She wants this feeling more than anything; every time she wants it more.

 


End file.
